Reclamation
by Light1
Summary: Vorador argues with a fledgling Kain but not all arguments end with blood.


**Reclamation **

Disclaimer: Legacy of Kain belongs to Edios and Crystal dynamics not me. I am making £0.00 out of this fic, it is written purely because I have a burning need to create. Although I would like to own Kain . . . then he'd be mine, I wouldn't mind a Vorador either ^_^

Warning: this fic contains **YAOI** (GuyXGuy), if this offends or upsets you do not read this, it's that simple.

Rating: M

Pairing: Kain/Vorador hints of Vorador/Janos

Set: Between Blood omen and Blood Omen Two

Part: one of one

Authoress note: Vorador questions an old argument.

_Italics = thoughts and flashbacks_

_Malek had fallen almost easily to his blade. But it had not surprised Vorador in the slightest. The paladin had wanted release from his 'eternity of suffering' and Vorador had given it to him. Vorador barked a laugh. 'Eternity'. That whelp had no idea of eternity or of suffering. Vorador did though. He knew exactly what both felt like. He sighed, but was drawn from his thoughts when Kain re-entered the room. The fledgling looked like the cat that had caught the canary. In his hands he held a cloak of fine woven metal links and a damaged antler headdress. He had been victorious. Kain didn't seem to notice Vorador at first and walked as if to leave. Then, stopping, he turned to the elder. Their eyes met for a painfully long moment, both blank and unfeeling. Kain eventually nodded and lifted the battered helmet from the floor, sneering at it for a moment before looking at Vorador again. His expression confused the elder, who could not decipher it. Vorador raised an eyebrow, and then snorted, turning away. Kain turned and started to walk away without saying anything. But he stopped just before the door._

"_You think I'm crazy, don't you," Kain asked._

"_Maybe," Vorador admitted, "but I don't hold it against you." This earned a short bitter laugh from the fledgling._

"_Thank you, I think," Kain muttered before erupting into a cloud of silver grey bats and exiting through a high window into the blood red sky of Eden. _

{Vorador}

Vorador groggily opened his unfocused eyes, wondering why he found it strange to be doing so. A small but insistent pain assaulted him across his throat. His breath was raspy and dry, and he felt like he had swallowed glass. Slowly his eyes began to focus and he found himself staring at the back of a neck in extreme close up. Ivory hair lay fanned out across the pillow. Leaving the back of the neck exposed. Tiny baby fine hair ghosted across it. The skin was practically translucent, webs of blue veins clearly visible beneath the thin protection of skin. The smell of dead immortal blood rose from the one in-front of him. The neck subtly curved down to a shoulder. Vorador lifted an eyebrow when he saw his own cloven hand gripping the shoulder, encircling the knob of bone tight enough to leave a red print on the pale flesh. He eased his grip, it was comfortable. The rest of the body was nestled comfortably against his own. Forgetting his confusion briefly, Vorador smiled a little and closed his eyes. He had missed the sensation of someone else in his bed. He missed the slow rise and fall of breath that some young vampires still preformed out of humane habit. He missed the vibration of their heartbeat. It had been too long since he'd slept next to someone. He had been alone for far too long and it left him cold and wanting.

He sighed and did not open his eyes, it had been so long. He had, in the past been known to create fledglings just for this very purpose alone, to keep his loneliness down. None of them had meant anything to him and he did not mourn their individual loss. He had simply made more, nothing about them mattered. Not the age, size, or gender. They had just been tools, something to use to keep the all consuming loneliness at bay. The loneliness that had come into being with the loss of Janos. He had lost his sire and it hurt him terribly. Time did not heal the wound that Janos' death had caused in him. It only made it bigger, like a small creature continually gnawing on the edge of an open cut, slowly enlarging it. Keeping it raw and making it bigger. It was that wound that stopped him from caring for any of his children. He would never be hurt like that again, not ever.

The shoulder in his hand moved, he opened his eyes as he felt the muscles shifting like controlled liquid. He felt the bones rotate in their sockets and the smooth texture of flesh under his palm. The spine arched and seemed to ripple against him as the other started to wake slowly. It was surprising how much you could understand about someone's anatomy just by touching them. He had often lain next to his fledglings awake while they still dozed, and watched them in a similar way to how he was watching the one in front of him. But slowly, over time, the Serefan had wiped out his fledglings. Leaving him almost alone with only a handful to pick from. And then Kain had come and practically wiped them all out in a bid to get to him. Strange really that the fledgling had felt the need to massacre the brood Vorador kept around him. Using the doorbell usually worked so much better. Once Kain had come and gone, Moebius' mob had easily picked off the remaining few in the last great hunt. The last great hunt, when Vorador himself had been captured, captured and killed. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to force the memories away. He didn't want to remember, he had enough grief in the present world without dragging past pains up, without reopening old wounds. The shoulder in his grip moved away as the one next to him sat up. Kain yawned widely. Vorador watched him, looking over the left side of his face, checking. But there was nothing there anymore save from the smear of dried blood. No other mark remained. Kain shook his head slightly as if trying to shake away sleep.

"If you're still tired, go back to sleep," Vorador smiled. Kain turned to look at him and said nothing. Kain studied his face as intently as anyone had ever done. More intently than many of his one-night lovers. The fledgling's eyes flickered with a fierce intelligence behind the shimmer of insanity on the surface. Insane, but intelligently so. Vorador felt uncomfortable for a moment, until he noticed that the fledgling's eyes were actually brown with flicks of gold. They still hadn't turned completely golden like all vampires did after they were turned. It was a frightening reminder of how young Kain actually was. Vorador shivered unpleasantly. This one that was so young had torn through the circle. Nosgoth's elite of most powerful sorcerers, like they were melting butter. He now held the Reaver and handled it like he had been born to the magic that almost pulsed out of him was still half wild, uncontrolled. But he was learning to use it. One day he would be unstoppable. All in all, at times he made Vorador very nervous. Vorador jerked suddenly when he realised Kain was speaking to him

"Not tired," Kain muttered stubbornly. Vorador couldn't help it, his smile widened. It was peculiar really that this one who shouldered the weight of the world and sometimes it showed through his mannerisms. But at other times he could do or say things that sounded like they should be coming from the mouth of a five year old human. Briefly, the image of him dragging a kicking and screaming Kain to bed, yelling '_bed time'_ assaulted his mind and he chuckled. Kain raised a pale eyebrow at the laugh, and then shrugged before yawning again. The fledgling truly seemed tired. Vorador would most of the time forget how young this fledgling was. Forget that despite all his power and bravado he was still a child by vampire standards. Vorador realised his mind was wondering again and only caught the last two words the fledgling uttered ". . . Fight back."

Oh, it was this old argument again. The argument was a very, very old one. One in fact that they had been having last night and many nights before and every time it always had the same outcome one. He doubted either were overly happy about it but felt powerless to resist.

"_If you fight back they just hurt you worse," Vorador mumbled, collapsing back into a red plush chair. Both of Kain's eyebrows rose at the statement, obviously not being what he had expected from the elder._

"_You cannot be serious!" Kain snapped. His anger more than visible on the surface._

"_I am deadly serious," Vorador snapped louder standing. "If you truly intend this war on human kind, you will receive no aid here." _

_Kain reached out, maybe only wanting to touch the elder to try and drive his point in. Vorador hissed. He did not want to be touched. Before he could stop himself, an emerald green talon lashed out, claws slicking deeply into fledgling vampire flesh. He felt the skin split warmly against his claws. Felt blood smear hotly across his talon. It almost hurt him when he collided with the hardness of teeth, fangs. Kain's head snapped backwards, hitting the wall hard. The fledgling slid down slowly, stunned. His eyes wide and shocked as they cleared. The shock was a wonderful expression, Vorador thought. Usually it meant fear. It gave him power. He had the power to banish that fear. The power to be merciful. But he also had the power to deny mercy. Before he had made a conscious decision, he was kneeling in-front of the fledgling, one talon held open, sharp, and ready to kill. While the other gripped hard around the fledgling's wrist. Vorador almost purred as he heard the small bones grind against each other in protest to his harsh grip. Kain looked at him, eyes blank. Vorador stopped. It took effort to stop but he knew if he didn't then he would hit the fledgling again and again. He knew Kain might take one or two strikes knowing how volatile Vorador's temper was. But he knew he would not just sit there and die. Kain would fight back and he knew how powerful the fledgling truly was even if he would not verbally admit it. _

_One of them would die._

_But still it took effort to stop because the softness of the fledgling's skin splitting open between his talons had felt so damn good. Vorador stood and took a few steps backward. He watched as Kain swallowed a mouthful of his own blood before looking up at Vorador. His eyes weren't angry or afraid merely tired. Eventually he raised an ivory hand so Vorador could help him up. Vorador lowered the emerald talon he had used to hit the fledgling. His blood was dripping from it. He pulled Kain up with ease. Kain stumbled and almost barrelled into the elder. But Vorador's hands on his shoulders stopped him. Their eyes met for a second then without thinking Vorador rubbed his lips across the blood and licked some of it away. He tasted hot spiced vampire blood and the salt of the fledgling's skin. He could feel the wounds healing beneath his tongue and lapped at them. They reopened under his pressing. Coming wide open, blood flowed heavily from them. Vorador was a little surprised he hadn't thought they were as deep as they obviously were. He sucked at the wound, swallowed the blood. He had spilled this and so it was his by right, this potent elixir that tasted of life, death, sadness and rage. Then Kain's mouth moved to meet his and both were lost. _

The rest of the night had been a blur of tearing clothing, burns, torn bed sheets, claws, fangs, blood and cum. By the time both were too exhausted to go again the bedroom looked as if a battle really had been fought. The desk had broken under both their weight. The rug had a deep rip caused by one of his foot talons. Kain had carpet burns up his back while Vorador was healing from thin cuts made by fledgling claws. The sheets had been pulled away and were blood stained while feathers escaped the mattress from several tears. Vorador wondered if they were truly trying to kill each other. Every time this happened he felt fear, fear that allowing this to happen would give Kain the power over him, the power to touch his mind, control him, to crack his scull open like an egg, but the fear always melted when he saw it reflected in Kain's eyes. Both knew how bad this was for them yet neither seemed able to stop it. Vorador hoped they found a way soon; it was costing him a fortune in furniture.

**End**


End file.
